Christmas Past
by Nicole Harpe
Summary: Al and Trudy are deserted by their mother the day before Christmas. They run away looking for their father and end up meeting a miracle. As with most Christmas stories, sappy and sentimental.
1. Someone Cares

**Christmas Past**

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This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author. 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** In 1941, children with Down syndrome were referred to as Mongoloids. It is only in keeping with the terminology of the time that I use the idiom which today is considered inappropriate for people with Down syndrome. I apologize for any distress the term might cause. Thank you.

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

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**Christmas Past**

**Chapter One - Someone Cares**

Winter, gray and overwhelmingly cold, descended on Little Italy in 1941. Despite the bombing of Pearl Harbor only weeks before, the neighborhood paid glorious homage to the holidays with lights, Christmas trees, gifts, and those special scents that made everyone dream of home. The little seven-year-old boy walked down the cold concrete, his face to the ground. Pulling his thin coat around his body, he debated whether he would go home or not. His mother would be there, but so would that man, the one she was fooling around with while his father was off somewhere earning a living for them. Home didn't seem like a good idea, but his sister was waiting and she needed him. She was a Mongoloid and their mother seemed embarrassed by it all. He couldn't figure that one out. His little sister was a good kid who only saw the best in people.

When she was born, their father thought, because of her disability. she would always see the truth and that she would always be truth. So, he named her True. It was big brother who called her Trudy. The big brother was only eleven months older, but still he fought his fair share of fights protecting her from people who decided that making fun of her was amusing. For Trudy's sake, he would go the small apartment they had. The cold was chilling his skinny bones anyhow.

A school chum saw him and called from the window, "Hey, Calavicci! Hey Al!"

Looking up he saw Jerry Priori, "Hey, Jerry."

"You want to come for dinner?"

A hot meal sounded inviting. He was so tempted, but too much was on his mind. "Not tonight. Got to get home to Trudy."

"Merry Christmas!"

He didn't bother answering because Merry Christmas was an empty phrase to him. Jerry's window closed and Al was alone again. Home was half a block away and he dreaded getting there. The apartment on the fourth floor of the walk-up didn't fit into the season's festivities. There was no tree, certainly no presents, just the complete antithesis of the holiday. He felt lucky if their mother remembered to make a hot meal. Too often, it was his job to open the icebox and find something to give his sister to eat. He wished he knew how to cook so that Trudy would have warm food inside her.

If things went as he expected, his mother would be in the bedroom with that man. Trudy would be in the front room rocking and possibly needing to be changed since she hadn't really been able to understand toilet training yet. He'd help clean her up and then scrounge for food and milk. The two of them would sit together while he read her stories and sang songs. She'd fall asleep and then he'd start in on his books. At seven, he was able to read far beyond his years and his father wanted him to skip a grade or two, but teachers said he was too small to keep up with the big boys. So his books at home kept his active mind alert and open to ideas and a world that maybe existed outside his barren apartment.

He had only three books in his prized collection, but they were his salvation. There was a collection of poetry. It was a thick volume and he liked imagining all the things the poems told him. The second was really hard for him to read, but the story was about a man named Gulliver who ended up on an island filled with Lilliputians, tiny little people who had their own tiny world to live in. The third book was his favorite. His father read it to him just the year before. It was called **A Christmas Carol**.

For a few moments, he was happy thinking of his books, but then the reality of his life came back to haunt him like Christmas Past. He hated the man his mother brought home all the time. There was a mean streak in the guy and he didn't like children. Too often, Al felt the back of a hand across his face. A few times, the man took off his belt and whipped the little boy raising welts that stung for days.

Praying that wouldn't be the case today, he entered the apartment and heard his sister crying. The little girl was sitting by the front window, her face against the glass. Steaming breath and the cold winter air had iced the pane over. She was still crying as he pulled her away from the frigid window. All Trudy would say was, "Mama! Mama!"

His heart sunk. Somehow he knew, but he ran from room to room checking. Their mother was gone, her closet emptied of clothes. He took Trudy by her arms and shook her a little. "Trudy, where is Mama?" The little girl's face was a mess, her nose running and tears streaking from her eyes. Al wasn't sure she understood. "Listen to me, Trudy. Tell me where Mama is."

"Mama gone! Mama gone!" She cried harder than before because someone was there to hold onto her.

"Did she go with the mean man?" Her tears burst out louder and he had his answer. "Is she coming back?" He had to shake Trudy to get her to hear him. "Listen to me, is she coming back?"

"Mama go way f'ever. Go way f'ever."

Al cradled his sister trying to get her tears to end. In about an hour, she finally stopped more out of exhaustion than anything else, lying half asleep on the couch. Dinner was his priority. Trudy had to eat. A quick look in the kitchen found some bread and salami. After smelling the open bottle, he poured a glass of milk for his sister and set it on the table. Trudy was still on the sofa, her thumb in her mouth and a profound sadness in her eyes. Big brother took her to the kitchen, made sure she ate and then he put her to bed.

Part of him was glad his mother was gone because that meant the mean man was gone too, but he still loved Mama and maybe he could care for Trudy and himself long enough for her to return and realize her mistakes. Most seven-year-olds lived in a world of naiveté appropriate for young children, but Al's naiveté flew out the window years earlier. And while he wanted to believe in Santa Claus, he knew better. As much as he wanted to have the world's best mother, he knew better about that, too.

There was one more day of school, but he wouldn't go. Someone had to care for Trudy and since he didn't know where either parent was, that responsibility fell on his slight shoulders. He sat on his cot in the room he shared with his sister and counted out the money he had hidden for the day when he and Trudy would run away. Surprisingly, he found seventy-eight cents, but that included the dime he took from his mother's pocketbook when she wasn't looking. Seventy-eight cents and a plan was all he had. The next morning, he and his sister would leave New York City and travel to wherever it was, Ohio maybe, where his father was working.

While his beautiful little sister slept, Al packed a small satchel. He filled it with her things. He could make do, but his eye caught site of his books. He snuck the smallest one inside the case. Al would wake Trudy before dawn and together they'd take the subway to Grand Central Station. Even though just seven, Al had already developed a skill for sneaking into places without being seen. This time, he'd have to sneak onto a train with his little sister in tow, but somehow, he was going to get to Ohio and find their father.

Long past one in the morning, Al collapsed on his cot and fell into a fitful sleep. He woke up before dawn. They had to get going soon because the truant officer knew his name better than he should have. He helped Trudy dress and eat breakfast. He didn't bother doing the dishes. Bread and lunch meat was tucked into a brown paper bag for Trudy to carry. Trudy drank her fill of milk. Then, Al gulped the last of it and the empty glass bottle was left on the kitchen table.

He bundled Trudy up against the cold, took one last look at the apartment and together they walked into a pre-dawn Manhattan to take to the road.

They got to Grand Central Station as the crowds came into the city for rush hour. Al studied the schedules for the trains going east. The next one would be going toward Ohio at eight o'clock. The big clock in the center of the atrium declared an hour until the train left, but boarding would begin soon. Pulling his sister to the side he told her, "You can't say a word. You don't talk to anyone. You understand me?" She nodded. "Honey, you can talk to me, but not to any grownup. Don't talk to any grownups. Okay?" She nodded again and he hoped she understood the instruction. It was usually a hit or miss thing, but that never diminished her perfection in his eyes. "Okay, no talking. Come on."

He took her little hand and walked with confidence with the crowds going toward the eastbound sleeper train. While the porters were helping people with baggage, he and Trudy slipped onto the train. No one used bathrooms when trains are in the station, so he pulled Trudy into one and locked the door. He put Trudy on the toilet and was grateful to hear her emptying her bladder. One less accident was always a good thing. The flushing would have to wait. Her hands were washed and dried and then they waited.

The train chugged out of the station. Almost an hour went by before Al thought it was okay to take a peak. The city was gone and New York City morphed into a pastoral scene that Al had never seen before. It was incredibly beautiful and for a brief moment, he felt light-hearted and hopeful.

Big and bold, as if they had every right to be there, Al took Trudy's hand and walked down to the Club Car. He put his little sister by the window and she stared at the passing countryside with both hands pressed against the glass in delight. The waiter came to them. "Good morning. My name is Halsey. Can I help you, son?"

Al looked up at the tall, young black man wearing a white starched jacket and black cap. "Thank you, sir, no. We're fine."

The porter was a bit concerned. "Now, you two aren't traveling alone, are you?"

Al had to lie, "Oh no, sir. Our mother is asleep. She told me to bring my sister here."

The story sounded plausible, but the porter wasn't convinced. "What car is she in?"

Al started to panic, but he covered, "I'm not sure of the number, but we can find our way back." He took Trudy's arm. "Come on. We have to go."

"Wait now. I'm not sending you back. I just want to be sure you're safe." The man smiled and looked genuinely concerned for them.

Al took note of the kind face. He wanted to trust someone and Halsey looked like someone to trust, but the child cynic didn't allow it. "We're safe, sir. Thank you."

"Okay, son, you stay here as long as you want to." The porter walked away.

Sighing in relief, Al fell back in the big seat and relaxed just a little. He even allowed himself to close his eyes and without even noticing, he fell asleep. Trudy climbed into the seat with him and laid her head on his shoulder. Her little thumb went to her mouth and she joined her brother's slumber.

Almost an hour passed before Al woke up. Trudy still slept with her thumb in her mouth and her other hand grasping Al's coat. He gently pulled himself from under her and took the seat by the window. Pretty soon they'd have to find another place to go. Staying put too long would bring attention to them and he wanted to be invisible.

Halsey saw Al was awake and he came to him again. This time, he knelt to look the young runaway in the eye. "You feeling better now?"

Conversation could lead to getting caught, but he not answering would lead to it even faster. "I was sleepier than I thought."

"Looks like." The porter lovingly straightened out Trudy's errant curls. "Your sister is quite the little princess, isn't she?"

He couldn't help but smile. Al always thought Trudy deserved to be a princess and have people attend to her every whim. "Yes, sir. She's really special to me."

"I can see that. You're special to her, too."

If he had learned anything in his few years it was the fact that he wasn't special to anyone and never would be. He was trouble from day he was born and was going to end up in trouble when he grew up. That's what his mother said. His teachers, most of the neighbors, they all thought the same thing about him. "She's the good one."

Halsey smiled at him. "Son, any boy who loves his sister as much as you love her is something special. I know it can't be easy sometimes because she's different from most of us, but I tell you the truth, she is blessed by God to have you."

It didn't seem possible that he was a blessing of any kind to anyone. "She's the blessing. All she wants is for people to love her. That's all. So she loves everyone else including me." He thought he said it only in his head, but the words found sound, "Someone has to."

Halsey put his arms out toward Al and picked him up. The little boy was dwarfed in the tall man's strong grip. He took Al's seat by the window and spoke softly and kindly, so softly and kindly that Al for a brief second believed in Santa Claus, a tall, black Santa, but it felt like a visit to the ultimate children's advocate. "Now, I need you to tell me the truth. Where's your mama?"

The lied popped out, "She's asleep."

"Baby, where's your mama?"

Al wanted to tell him, but couldn't. "I told you where she was."

Halsey cradled him. "It's okay to tell the truth. You're not in trouble."

Someone warm and caring was holding him like a child needed to be held. Someone comforted him and spoke quietly without anger or malice. Someone recognized how beautiful Trudy was despite the features that made her the butt of horrid jokes. Closing his eyes against the tears, he whispered. "I don't know. She ran away with a man yesterday and didn't say where she was going."

Halsey rocked tenderly back and forth. He held Al in a way the boy didn't remember anyone ever holding him. "It's okay, baby. It's okay." The porter began to sing, "Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham. Rock my soul . . ." The rocking and soothing voice didn't stop for a very long time and Al let himself imagine that there could be a life like this for him, that someone would be at home to hold him and sing to him, that he could actually be a child. He fell asleep again with that sweet dream in his head.

His tiny body was placed on the seat and Halsey left to make arrangements for someone, a friend of his, to meet them at the next stop. She would take the two Calavicci children and make sure things would be well for them at last.

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	2. The Best Burger in Philly

**Christmas Past**

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This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author. 

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

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**Christmas Past**

**Chapter Two - The Best Burger in Philly**

The train rolled into Pittsburgh and Halsey held the hands of his two young friends, one of whom wasn't happy about it. They were going to be handed off to some woman Halsey knew. Al had visions of foster homes and separation from his sister. He looked up at the porter and begged, "Please, let us go. They'll take Trudy away from me. Don't let them do that."

Halsey reassured the boy. "I'm leaving you with a special friend of mine. She'll take good care of you. She's very nice. You'll like her."

Trust was betrayed. He thought Halsey was different, but yet again, a grown-up turned against them. They weren't good enough to keep. Who wanted a retard and a smart-ass kid? The pragmatist in the little boy asked, "She a cop?"

The kind porter laughed. "No, no, no." The train came to a stop. "Mona's no police officer. You'll like her."

Al didn't think so. Why should he? Nothing was going the way he wanted. His plan to find their father failed and after only a few hours. All he knew was that he wasn't going to be able to do anything right ever. He expected his own life to be ugly and awful, but Trudy didn't deserve it. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. But then, why should things ever go right for him?

Halsey helped the children disembark from the train. Trudy was giggling and happy to have such a nice man lift her from the car to the platform. Al, deflated and empty, just looked through things not wanting to take notice of anything the world might have to offer. If that one thing he coveted caught his eye, he would have to watch it disappear and even though he was only seven, he'd gone through that often enough. No need to be set up for failure again.

He didn't even see the smiling woman Halsey walked toward. Trudy took note, though. Her happy giggle brought Al back to his present situation. Halsey introduced the pair to this smiling woman with dark hair, dark sparkling eyes and a happy voice. "I am so glad to meet you both. Halsey seems to think we can be good friends. What do you think?" She held her arms open.

Trudy saw the waiting embrace and had no trouble accepting the kindness of this woman. On the other hand, Al stayed at a distance, far enough away to let her know he wasn't so easily fooled, but close enough to take care of his sister. Halsey noted the boy's reticence. Once again, he brought himself to Al's eye level. "Son, I know you're upset, but you go with Mona. She's going to take good care of you and Trudy."

Al said nothing. He didn't want to say anything. Talking is what got them thrown off the train. Confiding in Halsey is what messed everything up. He spied Mona's hand held out for him to take. He stuffed his hand back in his pocket just to be sure Mona and Halsey completely understood that he didn't have any use for her, him or anybody at all. His other hand held onto the satchel holding their belongings.

Mona held Trudy in her arms. She saw the satchel in Al's hand and asked, "You need help with that?"

"I didn't need your help before." For this, he would stare into her eyes. "Why would I need it now?"

Mona thanked Halsey and started walking away. Al wasn't going to let Trudy out of his sight so he had no choice but to tag along. All along the route Mona chatted with Trudy. The little girl was happy and loved being held. Yes, Trudy was happy and that helped Al feel a little better, but he knew the future was foster homes, separation, and a life of loneliness.

They walked about three blocks from the station and ended up in front of a small restaurant. Over the door was a sign proclaiming **Mona's Diner**. It was locked up, but obviously, the woman had the key. She opened glass door and ushered the children inside. The door closed behind them and Mona turned over the "Open" sign so that customers would be able to come in and grab a bite to eat. Looking around him, Al saw a kind of scruffy greasy spoon, certainly not a place where people came for haute cuisine. **Mona's Diner** was a working man's grill.

As tacky as the place was, the Christmas decorations made it even tackier. Lights were strung around the perimeter of the room. A big cutout Santa Claus stared out from the wall by the booths. Trudy saw the image and ran toward it chanting, "Santa! Santa! Santa!" Al had long ago given up on any truth in that pleasant myth, but Trudy still believed and that was enough for him. He wouldn't be the one to destroy her bright-eyed belief.

The boy sat at the counter while Trudy parked herself under Santa Claus. Mona asked, "So, Al, you hungry?" Pointing to the clock that declared it was 11:30 she said, "It's almost lunchtime. Want something to eat?"

It had been hours since they ate in the pre-dawn morning. His stomach had rumbled with hunger pangs for several hours. Still he told her, "No."

"Really? I'm starved. Give me a minute to fire up the grill and I'll make us some burgers. You like hamburgers?" She turned to Trudy, "How about you, hon? You want a hamburger?"

Trudy smiled and clapped her hands. "Hamburger! Hamburger!"

Mona kept talking. "I make a great burger. You want cheese on it? I love cheese on my burger. I bet you do too, Al." He wasn't going to talk. As she fired up the grill, she said, "I like the cheese to get nice and melted, all gooey. Then, I put on a lot of ketchup. Is that how you like it, Al?" Still no answer, but she paid no mind. "I bet you do." She walked through a swinging door and Al could see her go into a big refrigerator. "I have some nice cold milk here, but I could make hot chocolate. What do you say?"

He'd heard of hot chocolate, but he'd never had any. It sounded so good, warm, sweet and soothing. After all, he was still a child and the thought of hot chocolate intrigued him. In a soft voice he said, "Yes, ma'am. I'd like some hot chocolate."

"I'll make a pot. Then you, Trudy and me can share it."

His distrustful eyes watched Mona closely. The milk was getting heated and a big teapot was brought down from a shelf. She talked and talked about nothing at all, but the sounds filled the empty room and home-cooking began to fill his senses. Without realizing it, he began to lick his lips, a move that wasn't lost on Mona, but she didn't draw attention to it. She wanted him to eat. He was too thin, bordering on malnourished and food needed to line his belly. Trudy's too. "Yeah, I like hamburgers. My regulars will tell you I make the best burger in Pennsylvania."

The front door opened and a scraggly old man came in. He carried a small Christmas tree in one hand. Al had seen men like him a lot. They were homeless and everyone said they were to be avoided. You never knew what they would do. Those homeless men would steal the buckle off your belt if they had a chance. "Hey, Mona."

"Hey, Deuce. How are you doing today?" She turned to see him dragging in the evergreen. "What do you have there?"

"Benny was closing down. This here tree was left over. Thought you could use it!" He shifted the weight of the tree a little watching the melting snow make a tiny puddle on the floor.

"Hey, thanks. Put it over there at the end of the counter so everyone can see it." Deuce deposited the tree where he was instructed. Mona asked, "You hungry?"

"Hungry as a horse, but I could eat a horse!" He laughed at his own joke and didn't care that no one else did.

Her hands were busy at the grill. "Let me get you a burger. I'm making some for me and my friends here."

Sitting down next to Al the customer was surprised. "I didn't know you had kids."

A meat patty sizzled when she flipped it over. Nodding toward the Calavicci children, she told Deuce, "They're not mine. They're waiting here until we get someone to help."

Al was confused. "Who's coming? I'm not going to let you put Trudy in a foster home."

Deuce's hand flapped at the air. "Don't get your shorts in a knot, kid. Mona's a straight gal." He shuddered a little. "It's getting cold out there. I think we're going to get snow."

Her tone got serious. "You got a place to stay, Deuce? You can't be sleeping under the bridge on Christmas Eve."

"I got a spot reserved at the mission. Made sure I got a cot."

Al thought about his room at home. He slept on a cot like homeless Deuce was going to get. He looked up at the old man and wondered if he was seeing himself years down the line.

The children's hamburgers were done. "Let me get these on the table for the kids. I'll make you one right away." Mona walked over to the booth where Trudy sat rocking and looking up at Santa. "Come on, Al. I think you'll be more comfortable here."

The little boy was happy to get away from Deuce. He didn't trust the guy and any reason to move away was fine by him. He sat next to his sister and began to cut up the sandwich into little bits Trudy could eat on her own. Mona watched while he made sure his little sister was set up and could start her meal. Once he had her eating, he took a bite of his hamburger. It was about the best thing he'd ever eaten. He relished that first bite like a starving man. A hot sandwich with lots of cheese and ketchup. It was the best he'd had in a long time.

Mona fixed the hot chocolate and brought the pot to the children. Pouring two cups only halfway she warned, "Be careful. It's hot." Al nodded, his mouth filled with hamburger.

Mona returned to her grill and attended to the burgers while Deuce asked, "What's with the kids, Mona?"

Quietly, so Al wouldn't hear, Mona told her friend, "Runaways, well actually more like throwaways. Their mother deserted them."

The word "runaway" caught Al's sensitive ear. Deuce shook his head. "That's tough. Deserting your kids at Christmas, damn, can you get any lower?"

A dirty, homeless man with no money was calling his mother low. If she was low and Al was her son, then he had to be lower than low, still another affirmation of his worthlessness. He wiped a blob of ketchup off Trudy's chin. The little girl responded with a kiss on his cheek and until Trudy said, "Allie no cry," he hadn't realized his sadness was trickling down his face.

His hand shot to his face and he wiped away any residual of tears. "I'm not crying. Boys don't cry, okay?"

"Allie no cry." Trudy put her short arms around him. "Mama come home soon."

His mother wasn't coming back and he knew it, but his anger was growing and Trudy caught it first. "No, she won't!"

"Mama come home." Her whine bore great fear and her agitation grew with Al's anger.

"Don't you get it? She's never coming home, Trudy. She left us and she's never coming home!."

Trudy didn't believe him. "No, Mama come home. Mama come home," and her tears started in the same sad wail he heard the night before when he found her at the cold window.

Her crumpled, little fist started banging against her cheek. Al grabbed her hand and pulled it down. "No, Trudy. You'll hurt yourself. Stop!"

Mona saw the children's dilemma and ran to the booth. She put her arms out to Trudy, "Come here, baby. It's okay."

"Trudy want Mama." She hugged the waitress with all her might. Al could only sit and watch once again how he disappointed his sister, yet another failure.

The remaining hamburger lost all appeal. He looked up at his sister being held and calmed by this stranger. She was able to care for Trudy while he said and did all the wrong things. It was more than he could needed to know. He ran to the far corner of the diner, plopping down on the floor with his knees to his chest. Heaving sobs finally broke through his façade of braggadocio.

Mona handed Trudy over to Deuce who held the little girl with reverence. The woman went to Al's side and sat by him. His seven-year-old child's voice whimpered, "I want my papa."

Her arms wrapped around his sad skinny body. "I know, hon. I know." She pulled him onto her lap and let him be a little boy. He had too many responsibilities for such a young child. "It's been hard, hasn't it."

He would have answered her if he could, but his tears didn't allow for talking. All he could do was bury his head in her shoulder and try to cope with the horrible life behind him and the specter of a more horrible life ahead. "I want to be dead."

"Oh, sweetie, you have so much more to do with your life." He still cried. "But I think for now you need to cry. It's okay to cry. You've been so strong."

As he sat there, letting go of the brave front he thought was impenetrable, he found himself wondering if this was what it was like to have a mother, someone to hold you when you cried, someone to call you "sweetie" and "hon." There was nothing for him to do but become the child he truly was. Mona stopped talking and waited for him to find his voice again. "If they take Trudy away, they'll put her in an institution. Don't let them do that, please. She needs me. No one else looks out for her."

"I'm looking out for her now, too. Together we'll get through this."

While they sat together trying to make sense out of a mother's abandonment of her children, the door opened again. A woman walked in with a smile from ear to ear. Her bright blue eyes lit up the room with her inner joy. Grey streaks in her hair and laugh lines made her look like the grandma everyone wanted to have. There was snow on the woman's dark brown coat. "Merry Christmas, everybody! Boy, the weather is getting nasty out there. We're in for a big storm."

Mona didn't move, her arms still holding Al. "Hello, Mrs. Zimmer. How are you today?"

"Just fine, Mona. Just fine." She took off her wet coat and unwound the longest, most colorful scarf Al had ever seen and hung them on a peg near the door. Walking over to Deuce she continued talking. "Deuce, what a sweet girl." Mrs. Zimmer took Trudy's little hand and spoke tenderly to her, "You are just the cutest thing. What's your name?"

Trudy pulled her hand back and put her thumb in her mouth. Deuce answered for the child. "Her name is Trudy." Nodding toward Mona, "And that's her big brother Al."

Mrs. Zimmer smiled at Al. "It's so good to meet you both."

Crying was bad enough, but at least he sort of knew Mona. This new lady wasn't going to see him sniveling. His sleeve wiped across his face and got rid of the telltale tearstains. Getting up he walked past Mrs. Zimmer and took Trudy from Deuce's arms and brought her back to the table telling her, "Finish your hamburger before it gets cold."

Mona greeted Mrs. Zimmer with a hug. "Good to see you. What are you doing out on Christmas Eve? School's out isn't it?"

"Oh yes. The children went home at noon. I just stayed to grade some papers. The children are doing so well." She sat down at a small table. "I love your Christmas tree. Needs decorations, though, don't you think?"

Mona walked behind the counter and back to her grill. "Don't have any."

Knowing that something had to be done, Mrs. Zimmer began to think out loud. "Well, let's see. It could use some garland." The schoolteacher looked around the room. "I know." She stood up and walked toward the door. The smell of Mona's good hamburgers finally hit her. "I'll take one of those hamburgers, Mona. Your burgers are the best."

Mona winked at Al. "See? I told you."

Mrs. Zimmer took her long woolen scarf from the hook. "I don't need this right now. It will make a terrific decoration." The scarf had to be eight feet long. "This will do just fine."

She started to wrap the colorful garment around the tree. Time after time it fell. "Oh dear, I'm not doing this too well." Once again she tried to weave it into the branches of the small tree. "I think I need some help." Deuce was busy eating and Mona was at the grill. She looked at Al. "I bet you're a great tree trimmer."

Al shook his head. "We never had a Christmas tree. They're too expensive."

The sympathetic woman nodded, "Indeed, they can be very expensive, but I still bet you're a great tree trimmer. Would you help me, please?"

Stuffing the last bit of hamburger into his mouth, Al walked to the tree and surveyed the task at hand. "Shouldn't be too hard. You just have to sort of stick it between the branches." She handed him the scarf and he started near the top. He balanced on the tips of his toes and stuffed the fringed end into an open space. The rest of the scarf was crisscrossed around the little evergreen. The color did add a lot. It began to look like a real Christmas tree. Al smiled.

All three adults saw the grin and they started to see a little boy who could be happy instead of a child burdened by adult machinations. Mrs. Zimmer put her hands on his shoulders. "You are so smart. That was exactly the right way to do it."

From her place at the booth Trudy clapped her hands, "Tree pretty. Tree pretty. Tree pretty."

Giving the tree a good looking over Al said, "Yeah, it's kind of neat. I like it." He looked up into the kind face warmly holding his shoulders. "Your scarf looks good there."

"Yes, it does, Al. I like it, too." Al took that moment to yawn. "Looks like you need a nap. Must have been a long day for you."

"Yeah, kind of."

Mona put Mrs. Zimmer's hamburger on the counter. "Al, why don't you and Trudy lie down on the seats in the booth. Take a little nap."

It sounded good to him. It was just about Trudy's naptime anyhow, but there was something that needed attending to. "Where's your bathroom?" Mona pointed to a door next to the kitchen. "Thanks." He took Trudy's hand. "Come on, Trudy. Let's go to the toilet."

He led his sister away and the three adults had a moment alone. Mrs. Zimmer sighed, "He's a bright little boy."

Deuce added, "And he loves that little girl more than his life. You can see that."

Mona polished the counter with a cloth and admitted, "Yeah, they're both good kids, too good to be this alone."

Deuce walked to the front door. "Well, looks like they're staying here with us. The snow is getting fierce. Maybe you should call the cops."

Calling the police made the most sense, but Mona just didn't want to see Al and Trudy handed over to the foster care system. She knew there would be little chance for them to be adopted and even less that they would get to stay together. "No, those two have to stay together. I can't let anything keep them from staying together." Mona joined Deuce at the door. "Boy, the snow is sure getting thick. We may end up staying here for the night."

Al and Trudy emerged from the bathroom. He held his sister's tiny hand and led her to the booth in the farthest corner. "You lie down here and take a nap, okay?"

"Allie sing. Allie sing hush."

He helped his sister to lie down and he put his jacket over her. Quietly hoping only she could hear he began, "Hush little Trudy, don't say a word. Allie's gonna buy you a mockingbird . . ."

The soft song continued and the three adults in the diner all became as hushed as the dusting of snow outside. It was a song they'd never forget. This little child who had known only despair was giving his sister hope and promise. The lesson they learned was compelling and each had to concentrate to keep a tear or two of their own from falling.

In a few verses, Trudy was asleep, her thumb back in her mouth. Al sat next to her with his arm around her, protecting her from whatever demons might come through the door. A few more minutes later, his eyes shut and he too found some respite in sleep.

* * *


	3. Unless the Writing Be Erased

**Christmas Past**

* * *

This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

* * *

**Christmas Past**

**Unless the Writing Be Erased**

In a few verses of big brother Al's sweet lullaby, Trudy was asleep, her thumb back in her mouth. Al sat next to her with his arm around her, protecting her from whatever demons might come through the door. A few more minutes later, his eyes shut and he too found some respite.

Deuce leaned down and picked up the satchel Al left by the counter. "This belong to them?"

"Al was carrying it when Halsey brought them to me." She held out her hand. "I don't like going into people's things, but I think I have to. Here, let me see it." Deuce handed over the small case. Mona opened the buckle and peered inside. She rifled through it carefully. "Everything here belongs to Trudy. He only packed things for her." Mona's hand finally hit something hard. "What's this?" She dug out the book and looked at the cover. "**A Christmas Carol**, pretty advanced reading for a seven-year-old, isn't it, Mrs. Zimmer?"

"Very advanced. That's more for seventh grade rather than seven years. He might not be able to read it. It just might be something he took as a keepsake."

Mona knew better. "No, he reads this." Examining the tattered volume, she added, "And he reads it often. I wonder who he relates to in the story."

Thinking for a few seconds Deuce said, "He looks like Tiny Tim, but I bet he sees himself as Scrooge."

"But," Mrs. Zimmer educated, "Scrooge has redemption and turns his life around. Maybe Al still believes his life can get better."

Going toward the sleeping children with the satchel in her hand Mona thought aloud, "If he doesn't, then we have to show him it can." She placed the satchel on the floor next to Al, placing the book on the table in front of an angelic pair of children needing to be loved by someone who cared.

An hour passed and the snow fell faster and thicker obscuring the city, keeping the trio of adults from leaving the warm diner. In fact, as the weather worsened, more people came in to find a simple meal, a hot cup of coffee and a place to get warm before continuing home for Christmas. By the time Al woke up, another ten people had found their way into Mona's Diner and he was nervous. He didn't like strangers and more importantly, strangers usually didn't like Trudy. 

He never apologized for his sister. He never hid her face. He never treated her as if she didn't have a brain. His heart had so much love for her that he fought off bullies time after time. Then there was that time he fought off his mother's boyfriend. The man wanted to use Trudy for bad things, but the little boy didn't let the villain near their bedroom. Slamming the door with Trudy on the safe side, he stood between the door and the abuser. Trudy remained safe and never knew how close she came to being a horrifying statistic, but Al was now counted among those who knew the darkest side of childhood. This boy with an Arthurian soul would do anything to keep his little sister safe and happy. Now this room full of people scared him. There was only so much he could do.

Mrs. Zimmer saw him looking startled and biting his lip in fear. She took her cup of coffee over to the booth. "You had a nice long nap. Feel better?"

He wasn't ready to feel better. "There are too many people here I don't know."

"Oh, they're all regulars here like me and Deuce. They're all nice people." Al looked at her with untrusting eyes. "I promise you, you're safe. Mona, Deuce and I will look out for you. I promise."

"Yeah? Do you keep promises like most adults or do you mean things when you say them?"

"I mean things." She spied the book on the table. Tapping it, she asked him, "Can you read this?"

Another one who didn't want to believe a tough kid could be bright. "I'm not stupid."

"I can tell that, but this is pretty advanced for a boy your age. It doesn't seem possible."

He hated when people doubted his abilities. "You, and all the other teachers I know, think what I can do is impossible. You're in a big club."

"Would you read to me?"

"You looking for proof?" Mrs. Zimmer shrugged pretty much acknowledging that he pegged it. "Okay, you pick the passage so you don't think I got it memorized or anything."

The schoolteacher thought for a second and opened to a particularly mysterious section, "Here, this is a very important part of the book."

Al rolled his eyes and looked at the teacher's choice. He remembered the section and it was creepy. Without hesitation he read, "They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread." She chose this part on purpose. Al knew that. It wasn't nice of her to remind him that he was an orphan of humanity. "'Spirit! are they yours?' Scrooge could say no more. 'They are Man's,' said the Spirit, looking down upon them. 'And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers." At least Dickens was willing to say the children belonged to someone. Unless he could find his father, he and Trudy didn't have anyone at all. The story continued. "This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy," beware the boy, yeah, he'd heard that before, "for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.'"

The patrons sipping coffee stopped talking and began to listen to the boy reading with incredible feeling and conviction. Al didn't seem to notice, but he finally stopped and looked at the astonished teacher saying, "You want more?"

From across the room, a blind man holding his white cane said, "I do. Read, child. Read more."

Most times Al appeared self-assured, cocky even and bold, but in truth, he had a shy streak in him and the request was surprising. Someone liked hearing him read, but he closed the book. "That's enough. I only read for Trudy." Then making his point again, he said as he stared into Mrs. Zimmer's eyes. "And for teachers who keep making me prove that I know stuff."

He wished Mona wasn't so busy taking care of other people. He wanted her to come sit by him again and make him feel like he had a mother, but just like his real mother, she didn't have the time to care for him, so he got passed off onto someone else. Why wasn't he used to that yet?

Mrs. Zimmer stared in astonishment at Al. "I've never heard a little boy read that well before. You are very smart."

"Big deal. I don't need to be so smart. Trudy needs it more than me." He looked over at the Christmas tree. It was different now. Lots of colorful glass ornaments dangled from the fragrant branches. He pointed at it not quite believing the beautiful transformation. "Who brought the ornaments?"

Looking toward the tree, she put her hands palms up. "I don't know. I haven't seen anyone by the tree all afternoon."

He barely heard her. The tree beckoned him. Big brown eyes got wider and wider as he approached the little tree that was now much bigger. His hand reached out to touch the pine needles. "Wow. This is the best Christmas tree I've ever seen." He gazed up and down and couldn't believe that the shiny globes just appeared out of nowhere. Mona saw him at the end of the counter looking. She went to his side. "Miss Mona, who brought the ornaments?"

Ornaments? On her tree? "I don't know. They weren't here a minute ago."

It was snowing outside and Al knew he was getting a snow job inside the diner. "Right, I was asleep, not living in a mental hospital."

"I swear, Al. I don't know where they came from." She opened her voice big to ask the diners, "Hey, any of you bring in these ornaments for my tree?" The only responses she got were mumbles with no one coming forth. "Al, I can't tell you how they got there, because I don't know."

He heard Trudy waking from her nap. She would be scared, so the tree would have to wait. Getting to the booth just in time, he gently said, "You had a good nap, Trudy. I'm very proud of you." Her little fists rubbed the sleep from her eyes. However, all the new people that made Al concerned were just new friends in Trudy's eyes. She quickly got up with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. All these people were presents for her. Her little legs jumped up and down and she laughed completely unable to hide her joy. Before Al had a chance to grab her, she ran to a man sitting at a booth near the door. As soon as Al saw the man, he understood why.

This older man was a little too fat, but he had a special smile. His unshaven face presented a white beard, white hair and a red nose. Trudy put her arms out and gleefully shrieked, "Santa Claus!" When the man smiled, even Al had to admit he was the best store Santa he'd ever seen. The boy caught up with his sister and told the man, "You be Santa for her."

"It would be an honor." He scooped up the little girl and plopped her down on his knee. "So tell me, what's your name?"

"Trudy."

"That is a delightful name. It sounds so happy. Are you happy, Trudy?"

The little girl wrapped her arms around her Santa. "Trudy love Santa."

"Now that makes Santa very happy." Al's little sister was thrilled to be hugging Santa. It's not that he ever brought her anything, but he was always good to children. Not every grownup was good to her so she reveled in this audience with Santa.

Without his noticing it, Mona ended up standing right behind Al. "Come on, Al. Let Trudy visit with Santa. I can make you some more hot chocolate. Would you like that?"

He debated, but somehow, he knew this man was safe. In fact, he was getting the feeling that everything inside **Mona's Diner** was safe. She took his hand and he sat at the counter. "We got busy while you were asleep. Glad they didn't wake you up." She put some milk on the stove to heat.

From behind him, Al heard the diner door open again. He turned to see who else was seeking refuge from the barrage of winter. A young woman shook the snow from her curly red hair. She carried a beat up guitar and a small suitcase. She meant for everyone to hear when she proclaimed, "This is the night, people! This is the night for miracles and I am yours!" The guitar and suitcase were deposited on the floor and her coat was whipped off and thrown on the floor near the hooks Mona had there just for coats. "Give me a few minutes to warm up and then we'll get to singing!" Spotting Mona, the young woman shouted, "Mone, I need a cup of joe and a piece of pumpkin pie!"

"Coming up, Gracie." Al's mouth had dropped open. Mona smiled. "Gracie's a little loud, but she's always entertaining."

"Do you know everyone in here?"

"They're my regulars." She balanced Gracie's order and told Al, "I'll be right back." Mona served Gracie her coffee and pie and returned to Al. "Everyone here is looking for a place where they can belong. So, **Mona's Diner** gives them that place."

Al thought about it. "Yeah, but why did you bring me and Trudy here? Our dad loves us. We belong with him."

"Where is your father?"

"Somewhere in Ohio. I think in Cleveland."

"Cleveland's awfully big. Did you think you'd be able to find him?"

"He's a construction worker. There can't be too many places being built right now."

Al found a way around every stumbling block ahead of him - even if his way was a bit errant. "You are a smart one." She checked the milk she had heating.

He had something to ask this nice lady who fed him and held him just like a mother should. It's not that he was ungrateful, but he was a pragmatist and some questions just had to be asked. "Miss Mona, what's going to happen to me and Trudy?"

The question was bound to be asked and she didn't know if she had the answer he wanted to hear. "I guess, Al, we'll go to the state police as soon as the weather lets up. You and Trudy will be taken care of. I promise."

"They'll take her away from me."

Mona poured out the hot chocolate. "Al, you're a smart boy and I know you love Trudy. You've been the best big brother I've ever seen, but you're too young to be raising a child."

His heart hovered between anger and deep sorrow. "She'll never be happy if I'm not with her."

They was no denying his words. "I think you're right, but she will be safe and have a place to sleep and people who will care for her. So will you."

He lifted the big cup to his lips and took a sip of hot chocolate savoring the smell and the silky taste. "But our father will want us to be with him."

This little boy and his littler sister were on the road searching for a father somewhere in Ohio. Their mother was who knows where. It didn't look like anyone cared where these children were or what happened to them. Mona touched his hand. "Sweetie, we don't know where your father is. Are you even sure he's in Ohio?"

Al was pretty sure, but every so often he thought it might be Iowa. "I think so."

She got even closer to his tragic little face. "See? We have to get you a home, someplace where you'll be safe."

There was a potential solution, but he wasn't sure he should ask. On the other hand, if he didn't then he'd forever wonder about it. "Can we stay with you?"

The plea was poignant and earnest, but clearly, she could not take the children. "Oh, I am so honored that you want to stay here, but this isn't a place for kids to live and you need a full time mother."

"I had one." He closed up, bringing his arms into his chest, protecting what was left of his heart. "She didn't do me much good."

"She gave you Trudy."

That thought never occurred to him. If nothing else, his mother had given him the greatest gift he'd ever get. She gave him a little sister who loved him with a soul so full of joy that he'd never be able to understand the depth of her affection though there were times when he felt it. "She's a good kid."

"So are you. You keep forgetting that."

From the other side of the room Gracie addressed her captive audience. "Okay ladies and gentlemen I have a song to sing for you, a traditional Christmas song from England long ago." She tuned the guitar as she told her story. "In England, people go caroling all through the season and this is one of the prettiest tunes ever." Her fingers danced over the steel strings and warmly filled the room with a sense of the past. "In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan. Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;" No one in the room made a sound. Her rich alto was strong, but tender and she continued singing. "Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago."

Gracie put her guitar down. "Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign." She reached down and touched Trudy's smiling face. "In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed the lord God almighty, Jesus Christ."

By the end of the verse, she was standing by Al. "What can I give him, poor as I am?" She took his hand and he walked with her. They stopped by Deuce. "If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;" Mrs. Zimmer listened from the booth "If I were a wise man, I would do my part;" Gracie got down on her knees and sang to Al, "Yet, what I can I give him: give my heart."

There was no applause, just a silence that was more eloquent than any ovation could ever be. Gracie leaned down and kissed Al's cheek. "What can I give you, Al?"

With the honesty of a child and the despondency of a wizened old man he said, "Give me a home where Trudy and I can grow up together and be happy."

She kissed him again and sang, "Yet what I can I give you: give my heart."

"A heart is nice, but I want to find my dad and go home with him." He was close to tears again and it was hard work to keep them from falling.

"I'm afraid all I can do is sing for you. I hope that's enough." Her arms curled around him and held so tightly that Al thought he would burst. "But I will always sing for you. All you need to do is ask and I'll sing anything you want, whenever you want, no matter where you are."

"I like singing. Thank you." He pulled away and then took his sister from Santa's lap. "Trudy, let's go back to the booth. Miss Mona made more hot chocolate."

Trudy grasped Al's hand and began jumping again. "Look! Look, Allie! Tree!" She pointed to the evergreen that now had lights glistening in the branches.

Al whispered, "How did that happen? No one went near it."

Mona brought two hot chocolates to the children's booth. "It's Christmas Eve, Al. Sometimes miracles can happen."

* * *

**In the Bleak Midwinter** by Gustav Holst

**A Christmas Carol **by Charles Dickens


	4. The Key

**Christmas Past**

* * *

This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author. 

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

* * *

**Christmas Past**

**Chapter Four - The Key**

The evening came and most of the customers, in their need to be home, braved the weather. By 10 o'clock only Mona, Deuce, Mrs. Zimmer and Gracie remained with the children. Trudy slept in peace since it was well past her bedtime. Mrs. Zimmer Tucked into another booth, Mrs. Zimmer pulled her coat over her to nap a little before finding her way back to her apartment. Meanwhile, Mona washed dishes and closed up the grill. Deuce tempted the sleep fates by downing yet another cup of coffee. Gracie sat near the window with her guitar in her hand, fiddling with old songs humming barely loud enough to be heard.

With this time to himself, Al took a moment to look at the tree up close again. He still couldn't figure how the lights and decorations showed up. Small fingers sheepishly touched the shiny orbs. He tested to see if the lights were real by feeling for the heat. His index finger was stolen back when he touched the bulb for a little bit too long. Sucking on the burned digit, he was dumbfounded. The scrawny tree had grown in the hours he and Trudy were at Mona's. Ornaments appeared and lights made the tree perfect, almost. Something was missing, but since he'd never had a tree before, he didn't know what that was.

So much had happened during this horrible/wonderful day. His confusion didn't do much for his ability to sleep, but then part of him wanted to stay up as long as possible, almost as if falling asleep might take away the magic. Finally, he sat on the floor close enough to the tree that he could touch the bottom branches. Mona finished her chores and sat next to him. "Quite a day, wasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You got a lot to think about. I heard some pretty impressive stuff here today."

Al didn't understand. The only thing that impressed him was the tree. "What did you hear?"

One more time she gently pulled the boy onto her lap and they stared at the bright, shiny tree. "I heard you reading about two children named Want and Ignorance."

"That's from **A Christmas Carol**."

Mona gently brushed a few curls out of Al's eyes. Her hand lingered on his tender cheek. "The ghost told Scrooge to be especially careful about Ignorance. It's so important to go to school and learn, to understand art and science and arithmetic and history. Ignorance is a killing thing."

"I like school." The honest part of the child had to admit, "Well, sometimes I like it."

"Learning will keep you free, Al. Don't ever stop learning. It will be your salvation." Her arms closed around him tighter. "Then I heard Gracie's song and I thought what a nice thing it must be to know that no matter how rich or poor you are you can still give someone your heart." She turned her head in order to look into his chocolate brown eyes. "You give your heart to Trudy every minute of every day."

He didn't like getting credit for doing what should have been done by everyone. His sister deserved to have people care. "She's easy to love."

Mona smiled at the simple truth. "Yes, she is, but sometime down the line, you might give your heart to a person who's not so easy to love. That's the mark of a real man. Then there are those times when you hope someone will offer their heart to you when you need it most. That's the mark of a real friend."

Al stared into a silver ball and watched it reflect back multicolored layers of light. "Papa says, 'Per raro che sia vero amore, é meno raro della vera amicizia.'"

"You speak Italian?"

He blushed a little. Speaking Italian wasn't cool. It meant you were a foreigner and no one in the old neighborhood liked being a foreigner. "Papa still talks Italian sometimes. He wants me to know how to talk it."

"A second language is a wonderful thing, Al, and Italian is so beautiful. Say that phrase again."

"Per raro che sia vero amore, é meno raro della vera amicizia."

Mona laughed. "And you remember all that? What does it mean?"

"True love is rare, true friendship is rarer." He snuggled into her arms closer. "I don't think I have to worry about either of those."

"Oh, honey, you are so wrong. Wait until you see how wrong you are. Someday you'll see just how much you know about love and friendship and you'll be teaching others."

The idea seemed impossible so he decided to look harder at the first Christmas tree he ever felt belonged to him. "You said there were three things. You only told me two."

"The third one is the most important of all. It has to do with Christmas. Christmas is a time when a tree that was little and kind of skinny," she gave him a tender squish, "like you, can become strong, tall, bright and the most sincere proof that miracles can happen to plain ordinary everyday people like us, like you and Trudy."

He sat quietly thinking about Mona's words. There was a lot to think about. Maybe, if he concentrated on school, he'd be able to provide for Trudy. And maybe his love for her would be enough to help her through the upcoming rough times. Then again, if a tree can get a miracle, why not a little boy?

Gracie still played her guitar and she started singing. "There's a somebody I'm longing to see. I hope that he turns out to be someone to watch over me."

Mona sighed. "I love that song. It's my favorite."

Looking into Miss Mona's face, Al saw love and caring, someone watching over him and he wanted to do something for her. Gracie kept singing. "I'm a little lamb that's lost in the wood. I know I could always be good to one who'll watch over me."

Al stood up, bowed and held out his hand. "Miss Mona, may I have this dance?"

The offer held such charm that she had to accept. "It would be an honor, sir."

Even though just a little boy, he liked to dance. In fact, he had one very good memory of his mother. Mama and Papa were both home and laughing for a change. Mama started to dance, taking Al's hands and showing him how to properly hold a lady while dancing. With that sweet image in his mind and with practiced step, he used this education with Miss Mona. They glided back and forth in rhythm.

Gracie smiled and sang, "Although he may not be the man some girls think of handsome, to my heart he'll carry the key."

The kindest woman Al ever met told him, "You have the key to my heart, little one. Every time you think no one cares, remember **Mona's Diner**."

It was an odd instruction and he didn't understand it completely, but he knew she told him an ultimate truth for his life. Despite the naps, the emotions of the day drained his tiny body. His tragic little eyes were closing. She lifted him into her arms. Gracie sang on. "Oh, how I need someone to watch over me."

* * *

Al awoke on a bench seat in the same booth as Trudy. His eyes took a few minutes to focus and remember where he was. Trudy was still sleeping, still with that thumb in her mouth. Mrs. Zimmer, Deuce and Gracie were gone and he didn't see Mona anywhere. At first, he was frightened, but then his nose sniffed the air and smelled something really good. There was bacon cooking and it was Christmas morning. 

The diner was filled with morning sunlight and the white snow reflected the sun's rays even more. Mona came into the front of the diner from her kitchen. Spying the wide-eyed boy she smiled, "Good morning, Al. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Miss Mona." He climbed out of the booth and sat at the counter. "That's bacon, isn't it?"

"Sure is. I thought we'd have some scrambled eggs, bacon and fresh biscuits with strawberry jam. How does that sound?"

It sounded like the biggest breakfast he'd ever had and he really wanted to eat everything. "Can we have hot chocolate, too?"

"Hot chocolate and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice too."

The conversation woke Trudy up and she called for her big brother. Without a second thought, Al leaped to her side. It was time for the toilet. The satchel kept her clean underwear and he found a pair. Hand in hand, he took her to get washed up.

Mona went back to her cooking until she heard the front door open. Turning she saw a big man enter. He was tall, handsome and his dark eyes sparkled with life. With a hint of a European accent he said, "Good morning. May I get breakfast?"

"Sure thing, sir. I'm making enough for an army."

The man took his coat off, tucked his newspaper under his arm and wiped his feet on the mat by the door. "Thank you. I'm surprised to find you open today."

"It's an important day to be open. People need **Mona's Diner** on Christmas Day." She opened the refrigerator by the sink. By the looks of the man's broad shoulders and strong hands, Mona figured this was a man would could eat plenty. "How many eggs can you eat? Three? Four?"

"Three, please, scrambled."

Mona took seven eggs from the fridge and broke them into a big bowl. "That's the only way I make them. So, what are you doing out on Christmas morning?"

"I'm going home. The trains are running very late and I don't know when I'll get another." He sat in a booth facing the windows with his back to Mona.

"Too bad, but Mona's will always be here for you."

The man buried his face in his newspaper and waited for his breakfast. Al and Trudy came from the bathroom both looking a little fresher than they had a few minutes earlier. They sat at the counter. Mona put her index finger on Trudy's nose. "I think if you look under the tree you'll find a surprise with your name on it."

Al glanced over and saw a package simply wrapped lying under the miracle tree. "Go ahead, honey. Go see what Santa brought."

The little girl found her present and took it back to Al. "Open."

The brown paper was torn away and the face of a stuffed animal peaked through. "Kitty!" She pulled the rest of the paper off.

Al mouthed the words, "Thank you" to Mona.

She had a grin from ear to ear as she plated up the eggs, bacon and biscuits. "I think there's something for you too," but no more packages hid under the tree. Mona didn't see the disappointment in his eyes. Instead, she called out, "Mister, I got your eggs here. Want to come get them?"

The customer expected to be waited on, but that was okay. If she was nice enough to be open on Christmas, then he could go get his own breakfast. He folded the paper and got out of the booth. When he finally saw the children, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Madonna mia, Alberto? Trudy?"

Both children turned. Al's eyes got as big as saucers. "Papa?" The little boy ran into his father's arms. "Papa, I never thought I'd see you again."

Trudy had to join them. "Papa, look! Kitty!"

Vince Calavicci marveled at the beautiful toy, but his heart marveled even more at this stroke of good fortune. "Miei bambini! Mio ragazzo, mia ragazza!. Ah, Dio, grazie, grazie."

The father cried along with his special children. It took a full ten minutes to pry them apart. By that time, the eggs were ruined and Mona was breaking a brand new dozen eggs in the big bowl.

The four ate their breakfast. The food was so good and the miracle Al hoped for had come true. His father would keep them together and he could go back to being a kid.

They laughed for hours, but it was time to catch the train to New York City. Vince didn't know how to thank Mona for her care and love. His children had been in trouble and this compassionate woman offered her food, her warm diner, and her heart to the pair and there was nothing Vince could say that would come close to repaying the kindness. Mona didn't want thanks. "Trudy and Al are my Christmas miracles - just like that tree."

Trudy looked at the fir at the first mention of it. She jumped up and down again. "Look! Look, Allie! Star!"

Perched on the top was a gold star, sparkling and making light dance across the ceiling and down the walls. There was no doubt now in Al's mind now. Less than 24 hours earlier, Deuce carried in an anemic thing, needles dropping off with each step. Bit by bit, the tree turned glorious and now it was complete. A miracle happened with the golden star being its exclamation point.

Al stood at the foot of the tree and stared at the promise it held. His heart raced in his little boy chest and hope was born. It felt odd, but so very good.

Miracles visited **Mona's Diner** that day, but it was time to go. A call to the train station told Vince there was one last train getting home before the day ended. Al gathered up the satchel and Vince and Trudy said good-bye to Mona. There was so much to say, but little Al wasn't finding the right words. He pulled a chair over to the kind woman and stood on it. "I wanted to be able to reach you." His smile was childlike and filled with carefree happiness. "Thank you, Miss Mona." He hugged her and gave her a kiss. "I won't ever forget you."

"You better not." She held him tight and reminded him. "You need to stay in school, open your heart to people and remember that miracles are possible."

"Yes ma'am. I will." He kissed her again, jumped down and then he left the best diner in the whole world.

Vince had Trudy on his shoulders and Al's hand in his. It was the safest the boy felt in too long to recall. His father was taking them home and they were a family again.

Mona started to clean up the diner when she saw the book, Al's special copy of **A Christmas Carol**. "Oh, no." She ran to the door, but Vince and the children were nowhere to be seen. She tucked the book into the pocket of her apron and went back inside.

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**Someone to Watch Over Me **© George and Ira Gershwin 


	5. Epilogue

**Christmas Past**

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This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author 

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

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**Christmas Past**

**Epilogue**

Time moves on despite any attempts to keep it from doing so, even if they were planning on trying to bend it a little through Quantum Leap, their upcoming project. The miracle of 1941 was left behind. In fact, 44 years had drifted past when two men got stuck in Philadelphia. It was a snowy and cold Christmas Eve and the older man, a one-star Admiral in the Navy, knew exactly where his special diner was. "It's around the corner, Sam."

The younger man was taller and more ruggedly built. "Al, you haven't been to this joint since you were seven. How can you find it?"

"Some things you never forget."

Sam Beckett had known Admiral Al Calavicci for a few years, but from the instant they met, a bond was formed, each knowing he had a lifelong friend in the other. All morning Sam had listened to the Admiral's story of his miracle at **Mona's Diner** and even this objective scientist was moved by the entire situation. However, there was more than a little sarcasm when he said, "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't forget either, even if it is 1985 now and I was over four decades older."

The Admiral walked quickly and with great anticipation. "You wouldn't forget, Sam. Some Christmases you never forget." They turned another corner. "It's down at the end of the block. Come on." He started to trot toward the little diner that changed his life. There it was. The sign above the front window was faded and dirty, but it was still there - **Mona's Diner**. "I don't believe it. The building is still here. Look, Sam. I told you it was called **Mona's Diner**." The diner was long deserted, but that didn't seem to matter.

Standing outside the front door, Al felt a warmth coursing through him, a warmth of contentment and joy. "I can't believe it." He stared at the door. "I was sure the building would have been razed."

The animation on the Admiral's face made Sam laugh with sheer enjoyment. "See if we can get in. Try the door."

"It can't be unlocked," but his hand found the doorknob and he was startled. "Good Lord." The two men walked into the dark, neglected diner and began to look around.

Sam was unimpressed. "This is the place where your miracle happened?"

"Damn straight it is." He pointed to the end of the counter. "That's where the tree was."

As much as he wanted to believe in miracles, Sam wasn't convinced. "The tree that sprouted its own lights, ornaments and star, right?"

Al was having too much fun remembering every spot where something significant happened. "It did, Sam. No one would go near it and then it would have these lights. It was amazing and no, I can't explain it in terms a quantum physicist would accept."

Starting at the counter, Sam walked the perimeter of the room and ran his hand over the counter. "This place is filthy."

"Well, Mona kept it spotless. I had my first cup of hot chocolate here."

The idea that a cup of cocoa could be important to this career military man was almost laughable, but Sam kept the chuckle to himself. His friend was reveling in his memories and on Christmas Eve, Sam wasn't going to spoil his fun. "Now I know where your sweet tooth comes from."

The Admiral was going to say something, but he was standing at the spot where Gracie told him, _"I will always sing for you. I'll sing anything you want whenever you want."_ That promised had been fulfilled in profound ways. "I took her up on it, Sam. When I was MIA, sometimes I would imagine her being there and singing to me. She said she would always be there and she was."

Now, Sam still wasn't convinced anything miraculous happened at the diner, but if Al believed an apparition named Gracie alleviated some of the pain from those horrifying days of tortured incarceration in Vietnam, Sam wasn't going to argue. He kept walking around the diner doing his best to stay clean. The place was layered in dust.

Al saw Sam approach the booth where he and Trudy lived that day and told him, "That's our booth, Sam. Right there. Trudy and I slept there."

Patting the table Sam sardonically said, "This very booth? How exciting."

Okay, so maybe he was going overboard, but he was back at Mona's and even Sam's teasing wasn't going to take that from him. From across the room, he shook his finger at his friend, smiled and said, "Don't be a smart ass. This place was really important to me." Al was about to continue when he saw an anxious look on his friend's face. "What's wrong?"

Sam backed away from the table a bit. "You got to come here."

Even in the dim light, Al saw Sam's face pale. "What's wrong?"

"Just come here. Now." Sam pointed to the tabletop. "Look."

On the table was a small book, a copy of **A Christmas Carol**. While the table was loaded with decades of dust, the book was clean, spotless as if it had just been placed there. A white card lay on it and like the book, it was pristine. Al picked up the card and read aloud. "'Dear Al, I knew someday you'd be back for this. You've become quite a man and I'm proud of you. Glad you finally know you are loved. Merry Christmas, Admiral. Your friend, Mona Lisa Jerome.'" One more miracle added to the list. Smiling with a grin Sam never remembered seeing quite so big, Al said, "Mona Lisa - that makes sense. She had a fantastic smile, Sam."

Sam added, "Yeah, well Jerome makes even more sense."

Al hated when Sam did the _I-know-something-you-don't_ stuff. "Okay and what might that be?"

"You're the Catholic. Don't you know?"

"Yes, I know I'm Catholic. So spill it."

"St. Jerome, Al." Still, no recognition. "St. Jerome is the patron saint of orphans." Sam picked up the book and looked inside. "Oh, my God, Al, look." He showed his friend the inside cover where a scraggly name proclaimed ownership.

The Admiral took the revered volume and paged through it. It was **_his_** book, the very book left by a small boy who had other things on his mind that day. "I left this here accidentally."

Sam was getting nervous. "You planted that, right?" Al shook his head slowly and Sam could only mutter, "Oh, my God."

Looking into his friends wide eyes, Al said, "I told you this place was a miracle."

"You planted that, Al. I know you did."

The Admiral walked with complete reverence around the dingy Diner. "When did I have time to plant anything?"

That was true. Al was with Sam almost constantly for days. "Well, you paid someone."

The Admiral looked at his questioning friend. "Yeah? Well, did you see that when we came in?" He pointed to the end of the counter where a guitar appeared. Moments earlier, Sam had walked right past that spot and there wasn't any guitar. The two men approached the instrument with hearts racing.

"Al, this is too weird."

"No, Sam. It's Christmas. Miracles happen here all the time at Christmas." Not knowing if it was real or not, Al reached out and found the guitar had substance. With a nearly trembling hand, he handed it to Sam. "Play something. Put music back in here."

The ghost guitar spooked Sam, but he took it from Al's hand. "Probably hasn't been played for a long time. I don't know if I can tune it." He strummed a chord and every string sounded out in perfect harmony, one more impossibility.

A Cheshire cat grin made Al look like a little boy again. His eyes almost glittered. "Sounds in tune to me."

"Me, too." The enormity of Al's story was sinking in. "You did have a miracle here, didn't you."

Al wiped the counter seat with his hand and sat down. "This was where everything started for me." He brushed dirt from his hands. "You have no clue how much of a miracle happened here."

Sam began to pick at the guitar. "I'm starting to get it." He kept playing and watching his dear friend's thoughts disappear into the past. A serenity was in his expression that Sam had never seen before. The man's life was filled with tragedy after tragedy. The Admiral had every right to feel sorry for himself and yet there was something magic in his soul. He simply needed someone to tell him he had value. Apparently, Mona and her friends did that for him on that miracle Christmas. Sam wanted to tell Al that he too saw incredible value in him and suddenly Sam knew how to tell him. The chords he played were gentle and the song familiar. It was a song from Al's miracle. He started by saying, "This one's for you, Miss Mona." With hands and voice guided by a greater power, Sam sang, "There's a somebody I'm longing to see. I hope that she turns out to be someone to watch over me."

If at all possible, Al's grin got bigger. "Keep singing."

The sound filled the diner and a sweet contentment settled in the Admiral's heart. Sam sang on, "Although I may not be the man some girls think of handsome, to her heart I'll carry the key." Al's eyes closed. In his mind he was seven and dancing with Miss Mona. "Won't you tell her please to put on some speed, follow my lead? Oh how I need someone to watch over me."

The only thing that could make the day better was to tell Miss Mona all the things he wanted to share. Here he was, an educated man, a summa cum laude graduate of MIT who had piloted a spacecraft to the moon. On this chilly December day, he traveled to her diner with a true friend. Al realized this friend Sam Beckett, a friend who came to visit his past and who would remain by the Admiral's side forever into the future, loved him.

After one final chord, Sam put the venerable guitar back in place. Behind him, a flash of absurdly brilliant light brightened the room for a moment. He and Al turned to see a Christmas tree decorated with lights and ornaments and a shining star on the top. "That's the tree, Sam. Look, there's Mrs. Zimmer's scarf. I put that on the tree when I was seven." He walked over to the childhood miracle and took the scarf down. Its colors were still strong and vibrant. Al looked around and whispered, "Mona, I know you're here." He held the scarf in his hand like a soldier hanging onto his nation's emblem when all around him chaos ran rampant. The strength it bequeathed showed in his posture and resolve. Miss Mona brought him here to reassure him - Quantum Leap was his destiny and Sam was the one who found it for him.

They stayed a few more minutes pondering, wondering. Smiling at the best friend he ever had in his life, the Admiral winked and said, "Here, you take the scarf."

"Oh, no." Sam was shaking his head. "I can't. It's your miracle."

The Admiral knew full well what his miracle was. He was talking to him and he told Sam about it in the best way he could. "Your clothes are too damn boring. You keep it."

And Sam understood what he had just been told and needed to let Al know how much he cared. He gratefully took the scarf and said, "You just want to dress me like a Christmas tree."

"Be glad there isn't any tinsel." Al looked to the floor and murmured. "Merry Christmas, kid."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Al." Sam wrapped himself in the long scarf. "You sure you want me to have this?"

The words of an old Christmas carol came back to him. "Yet what I can I give him."

Sam was clueless what the Admiral meant, but he accepted the gift knowing it was worth far more than anything he'd ever receive again.

As they left the old diner, Al whispered, "Merry Christmas, Miss Mona. Thank you." Al reverently put his book and note in his inside coat pocket and closed the door behind him. He didn't see the message written in the dust on the counter.

"You're welcome, Al."

THE END

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**Someone to Watch Over Me **© George and Ira Gershwin 


End file.
